


Loud Places

by ClaraxBarton



Series: Charity Work [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hawkeye clint, Hipster Bucky, M/M, Millennial Bucky Barnes, canon adjacent, dumpster fire boyfriends, past Nat/Matt, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: Bucky got cockblocked by an alien invasion.Well.Technically, Hawkeye got cockblocked.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: Charity Work [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982893
Comments: 24
Kudos: 259





	Loud Places

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ro for the beta and being so amazing and supportive and the literal best!
> 
> And thanks to CB, who gave the first installation such a wonderful and HOTTTTTTT sequel and.... well, here we are....keeping this train moving.

  
  


Bucky got cockblocked by an alien invasion.

Well. 

Technically, Hawkeye got cockblocked. 

Bucky’s cock had been treated with all the enthusiasm and finesse that the seventy-eight-minute sex tape had led Bucky to fantasize about.

Hawkeye, on the other hand, had been a third of the way through his stack of chocolate chip pancakes, a dab of whipped cream on the corner of his mouth that Bucky had to physically restrain himself from licking off, when he got a call on his fancy StarkTek phone.

Aliens were invading Portugal and the Avengers were suiting up, and Hawkeye wasn’t where he was supposed to be and-

Hawkeye cut off the angry voice on the other end of his phone with an ‘uh huh, yep’ that earned several long seconds of lower speaking from the voice on the phone.

Hawkeye-  _ Clint _ . Clint. And holy shit, Bucky knew Hawkeye’s name.

Bucky knew what Hawkeye’s lips looked like curved up in a satisfied smirk when he kicked ass at pool, and Bucky knew what Hawkeye’s lips looked like curved around  _ his _ dick, and he knew how it  _ felt,  _ and fuck sex tapes. Bucky knew what it felt like to have  _ Clint _ grin at him and ask him out on a date.

Clint mumbled something in another language.

Russian? Bucky’s grandmother had died when he was seven, but something about the cadence of Clint’s words felt familiar.

Clint’s eyes cut towards Bucky, and his cheeks went pink.

It made Bucky smirk. Because Clint was undoubtedly talking to another Avenger, and the topic of conversation was clearly Bucky himself.

More Russian - and yeah. That was definitely a description of Bucky as  _ cute _ . Which he had a few issues with - one being he recognized it because it was how his grandmother had described him. Two being that Bucky wasn’t cute. He was sexy as fuck. He was hot.

The cute guy didn’t get to hookup with the world’s hottest superhero. The cute guy didn’t get his ass eaten out for twenty minutes. The cute guy didn’t get to fuck the world’s hottest superhero’s perfect ass until he was in actual tears and begging to be allowed to come.

Cute was for baby ducks.

Not superhero boyfriends. Or… potential superhero boyfriends. Or whatever this was maybe/might be/could be.

Clint hung up the phone, still pink-cheeked.

“So, uh, that was N- my team,” Clint smoothly corrected. “There’s um. Aliens.”

“Again?”

Clint nodded, lips twisted into something between a grimace and a smile.

“Yeah. So, I, uh…” Clint hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

“You’re not just blowing me off, right?” Bucky had to ask.

“Dude, I thought I already did.”

Bucky glared, Clint grinned.

Bucky snorted a laugh, and Clint looked like he’d won some kind of prize.

“No, but I have a… thing. I have to go. I’m sorry to fuck up our date.”

Bucky lifted his eyebrows, not sure if Clint was baiting him with that or not.

Clint’s pink-again cheeks indicated not.

So Bucky just smirked and drawled, shooting for hot and sexy and (hopefully) leaving  _ cute _ behind.

“You won’t hear any complaints about fucking from me,” he said, and sure, it was kind of lame, but his delivery was awesome, and Clint kind of… It wasn’t quite a full-body shiver, but it wasn’t not, either.

“What about,” Clint paused and licked his lips - which was playing dirty as hell, because Bucky knew where that mouth had been but also because Clint’s tongue snagged the whipped cream Bucky had promised himself he could kiss away. “What about aliens crashing date plans? Is that… a thing you’d complain about?”

Huh.

_ Shit _ .

It had been half-begging, half… self-compromise, back in the alley, when he’d told Clint he’d sworn off one-night stands.

Because, yes, he had. And one year into his… I’m a grown ass adult who wants a relationship  _ thing _ , Bucky hadn’t caved. Unless weekends counted as one-night stands? He wasn’t about to ask Becca to pass judgement on that. He didn’t need her to.

But Clint? Not even the Hawkeye and the sex tape and the saving the world and the criminally amazing ass got to Bucky as much as  _ Clint _ . The cocky not-quite asshole who’d squared up against him at the pool table and flirted and touched and teased and riled Bucky up to the point where he’d felt like a horny teenager.

And yeah, hell yeah, the alley blowjob had been… 11/10 would do again.

But this? The before the phone call parts of the last hour at this diner? Eating pancakes and playing footsie and bitching about the  _ Mets _ and Clint confiding to Bucky that  _ Rogue One _ was his favorite  _ Star Wars _ movie, even though he still told everyone it was  _ The Empire Strikes Back? _

This- That- Bucky needed more of it. Wanted more of the sex stuff too - because  _ duh  _ \- but this simmering attraction-fueled laughter and banter? Bucky needed that.

“I mean, it happens, right?” Bucky plastered on his best  _ I’m sexy as fuck and not cute like a baby duck _ smirk. “So long as you make it up to me, I got no complaints.”

And Clint’s answering smile?

Wow.

Yeah.

Bucky needed more of that.

“Awesome,” Clint said as he slid out of the diner booth and stood up.

He pulled out his wallet, ignored Bucky’s sounds of protest, and dropped three twenties on the table - which was a hell of a tip, and fuck, could Clint  _ be _ more perfect?

Apparently, yes.

Clint put one hand on the table top, another on the back of the booth by Bucky’s shoulder, and leaned down.

“Promise I’ll make it up to you,” Clint breathed against Bucky’s lips just before giving Bucky the kind of kiss that left him breathless and stupid and watching Clint oh-so-casually stroll out of the diner with just a single glance and a wink thrown over his shoulder for Bucky.

Fuck. 

Clint was fucking awesome.

  
  


—-

Clint was a fucking asshole.

Three weeks after the alien invasion of Portugal, and nothing.

No text or call or return to the dive bar - and the thing was, the bar was halfway between Bucky’s work and his apartment, so it wasn’t like he was going out of his way to stop in every other night for a few beers, okay?

Hawkeye - Clint - had ghosted him.

Which, fine, fair. He was a superhero with an amazing sextape and all he had to do was ask to get a dozen volunteers to ride his dick and/or ride his ass. 

So Bucky wanting to be that guy? Not special.

Bucky playing pool with him? Probably not that special.

Back alley blowjob?… Shit, Bucky was easy, and Bucky loves to suck dick as much as the next guy, so… probably not that special.

But Hawkeye had introduced himself as Clint. And Clint had asked Bucky on a date. And Clint had bought him pancakes. And Clint had said he’d make it up to him.

But he hadn’t.

And he’d been back in New York. Because sure, Bucky was actually lame as fuck, and maybe he was becoming a creepy lame stalker now?

Because he’d set up a google alert, and… and he’d gotten alerts.

Even this long after the sex tape’s release, it and Hawkeye were still popular enough for Hawkeye sightings to make the news. Which meant Bucky’s phone made a hell of a lot of notifications pings while he tried to work.

And-

And fuck it, was Bucky’s decision when he saw the photos of Hawkeye - because that’s who he was, to the public, and the total lack of contact from  _ Clint _ made it clear that Bucky was just the public - accepting an awkward from  _ GLAAD _ for raising sex-positive awareness.

Fuck it.

Bucky texted his sister and told her that he would go out with the nerdy lawyer dude she had been trying to set him up with for months now. Matt something.

It was time to move on.

-o-

In Bucky’s defense,  _ Matt _ had been the one to suggest they meet up at  _ Luke’s _ .

And, sure, Bucky had just been in the day before - the night before, he had too much work to day drink - and no, Clint hadn’t been there, and maybe, probably,  _ definitely _ , Bucky should have suggested somewhere else.

But…

The point was, it wasn’t Bucky’s fault. Not 100% his fault, at least.

Actually, actually, it was Becca’s fault. Had to be.

Because Becca was the one who had been pushing Bucky to go out with Matt, the cute lawyer, for months. Becca was the one who  _ hadn’t told Bucky that Matt was blind _ .

So when Bucky slid into the booth across from Matt, who had been early and already seated and adorably scruffy with three-day stubble on his jaw and a gray suit, white shirt, and loose blue tie around his neck and- and round, dark glasses that were somewhere between Elton John and John Lennon - he immediately put his foot not just in his mouth but entirely down his throat.

“Wow. You’re the hottest guy Becca has ever set me up on a blind date with.”

Matt just grinned, lips twitching a little, and adjusted something at his side. A long, thin stick-cane thing that looked vaguely familiar. That-

Oh. 

Oh shit.

Bucky was going to  _ murder _ his sister.

“I am so fucking sorry,” he rushed to say. “I didn’t- Becca never said- You-”

Matt held up both hands.

“Don’t worry about it. I was going to tell you you look great.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow at that - because he  _ did -  _ but Matt just continued to smirk. And, obviously, couldn’t see Bucky’s eyebrows anyway. Or his tight black jeans and tight white v-neck and black motorcycle jacket.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m, uh. Shit. You really are the hottest guy she’s ever set me up with. Not that - not that looks are everything,” Bucky tacked on, wondering if he could actually make himself seem less awesome or if he had officially hit rock bottom.

Matt’s lips twitched again. He shrugged one shoulder. Took a sip from the half-empty beer in front of him.

Jessica roamed towards them before Matt could offer any kind of response or Bucky could make an attempt to say something more insulting and stupid.

“Hey, fellas. How’s the awkward first date going?”

“Awkward,” they said at the same time.

Matt grinned again.

It was a nice grin. A good mouth. He really was hot. Adorable and hot.

And if he wasn’t Clint? 

Well, no one was. 

And Clint hadn’t called.

Bucky ordered a bottle of Amstel - a go-to move for all of the dates he wanted to take home, and… shit. It would be lost on Matt.

They decided to split a plate of nachos, heavy on the jalapenos, hard pass on the beans.

Jessica walked away looking somehow both amused and utterly, scathingly bored by their existence.

“So… uh, hi,” Bucky said to Matt once they were alone again.

“Hey,” Matt returned. They’d done this already, of course, when Bucky first approached the table and introduced himself. Back when he’d had a shot at not coming off as a total asshole.

“I figure first dates are the worst no matter what,” Matt said, voice soothing, low and soft but still audible in the bar.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Matt nodded. “Have you ever had a good one? I don’t mean, good enough to try a second date, but actually a  _ good _ date.”

Bucky didn’t even have to think about it - after all, it was  _ all _ he’d thought about over the last few weeks of being a creepy ass lame stalker.

Pool and a blowjob and pancakes and a brain-melting kiss with a promise to  _ make it up to him _ when they were interrupted by an alien invasion?

No date Bucky went on in the future would ever compare favorably to that one. 

But- but Bucky was moving on.

So he tried to think if there had been any other dates. Any other  _ good _ first dates.

“I guess not really,” he finally said. 

“Exactly. So we get to be awkward and wish we hadn’t said things or said something else.”

“You’re a really fair guy.”

Matt’s lips twitched, and he shrugged but didn’t offer a verbal comment.

“Your sister said you’re a technical…”

“I’m a draftsman - technically, an assistant technical director, but I’m the one who gets chained to the desk and does all the drafting.”

“So is it like engineering?”

“Yeah, exactly. I work for a scenic shop. So a designer sends us their drawings - their plans - and my job is to draft the actual construction, how the pieces need to be built and assembled.”

“So are the chains to your desk because you hate it or because you like chains?” Matt asked, and…

And yeah, his lips were definitely curved up in a definitely flirty grin.

“I, uh… I enjoy the job.” Bucky paused, licked his lips and decided,  _ fuck it _ . “I prefer ropes to chains, though. Always been good at tying knots.”

Matt laughed, something low and a little dark and…

And, okay. 

Okay. Bucky could do this. 

Sure, Matt wasn’t Clint. 

_ But no one was Clint, and it had been one night. One date.  _

Bucky drew in a breath, let it out slowly, told himself to stop being such an idiot.

And then, abruptly and entirely contrary to Bucky’s inner monologue and  _ reality _ , Clint was standing beside their table.

“Bucky!” he said, loudly and a bit out of breath and…

And he was flushed, too. Wearing sweatpants and a very tight, very faded Black Widow t-shirt with a hole in the collar and… flip flops.

“Clint?” Matt spoke up before Bucky could corral his  _ what the fuck _ thoughts into any kind of coherence.

Clint’s focus shifted from Bucky to Matt, back to Bucky, and then to Matt again. His eyebrows drew together.

“Matt, hey. I… How… You two know each other?”

“Getting there,” Matt said, lips curved and shoulders lifted in a confident, relaxed pose that was in stark contrast to Clint’s entire… everything, and Bucky and his everything too, actually.

Clint looked even more confused, blue eyes hooded by his furrowed brow when he turned back to Bucky.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky finally managed to put words together.

How was it, he wondered, that Clint could look like such a disaster - looked like he just rolled out of bed, literally, and shoved  _ flip flops _ onto his feet and, what, ran to the bar?

“I- You- Are you guys on a  _ date _ ?” he asked, voice raising a little, cheeks flushing even more. “Seriously? Matt, are you fucking kidding me?”

Bucky was actually kind of at a loss now.

“Wait, you two know each other?” he asked.

Both Clint and Matt looked a bit hesitant now.

“His ex is my best friend,” Clint said after a very awkward silence.

Matt’s lips twisted, but he nodded in agreement.

“Huh,” was all Bucky could say. Because, really.  _ Huh _ .

Jessica walked over, smug smirk on her face, and surveyed the three of them.

“Oh, good,” she said to Clint as she shoved a glass of beer into his hand, “you made it.”

Clint scowled, first at the beer, then at Jessica.

“You told me Bucky was here. Of course I made it.”   
  


That had Bucky raising his eyebrows, but before he could speak, Clint continued.

“You didn’t tell me he was on a  _ date _ .”

Jessica shrugged one shoulder.

“With  _ Matt _ .”

Jessica poked Clint in the chest.

“You told me to call if your hipster hookup came back. You didn’t specify anything else.”

Clint’s scowl became more pronounced.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bucky had to ask.

Jessica gave Clint a meaningful look.

Matt cleared his throat.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess this is some kind of classic Barton romantic misadventure,” he said.

The words made Bucky’s stomach churn, made Clint set the glass of beer - half-empty now - down on the table none-too-gently, and made Jessica roll her eyes.

“Clint came in a few days ago, told me to call him when his…” she waved her hand at Bucky, despite the fact that Matt couldn’t see the gesture, “came back. So I did.”

“It’s been three weeks!” Bucky said, words out before he could censor himself.

Now, though, with Matt calling this a  _ classic _ Barton romantic misadventure, Bucky felt like the ghosting had been explained. And hey, now he knew Clint’s last name. Awesome and useless.

Clint raked both of his hands through his hair and sighed.

“Okay, yeah - but- Okay, I didn’t have your number, and by the time I got back from my… stuff, it… I mean, what was I supposed to do? Stalk you and get your contact info and just call you out of the blue?”

“I didn’t give you my number?” Bucky asked, mentally reviewing that night, that  _ one date, _ and…

Shit. Fuck. He  _ hadn’t _ given Clint his number.

Fuck.

“Uh, no. Or, you know, your real name. I spent like three days calling every scenic studio in the city asking if  _ Bucky _ worked there, and-”

“James. My name is James Barnes,” Bucky said with a wince. “Bucky is just… a nickname.”

“Right. So. Yeah. That happened. And I figured… hell, maybe you didn’t give me your number on purpose, right?”

“No, not on purpose,” Bucky argued.

Clint gave him a slight, lopsided grin.

“So I decided to, uh, not be a creepy sp- stalker and let it go, but then N- my best friend, she suggested I ask Jess to keep an eye out for you because maybe it was all a misunderstanding and-”

“It was. Just a misunderstanding. I thought you were ghosting me.”

Clint gave him an incredulous look.

“Seriously?”

Bucky shrugged.

“Yeah? I mean, you’re… you know, you, and I’m just me, and-”

Jessica snorted a laugh.

“Oh my god, the two of you are seriously racing to the bottom here. Murdock, you’re not getting laid tonight, come do shots with me.”

Matt frowned a little.

“Bucky?” he asked, voice soft.

“I, uh, Clint and I are… kind of dating?” Bucky said, giving Clint a hopeful look.

Clint nodded emphatically.

Matt huffed a laugh and stood up.

He smirked and shook his head.

“Like I said, classic Barton romantic misadventure.” He turned his head towards Bucky. “It was good to meet you, Bucky.”

“You, too. I’m, uh, I’m sorry?”

Matt laughed again and then followed Jessica off to the bar.

Leaving Clint standing and Bucky still seated, looking up at him and…

“So, uh, hey,” Clint said.

“Give me your phone,” Bucky said, and held out his hand. “I’m putting my number in there before anything else happens.”

With a grin, Clint handed it over.

-o-

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I SWEAR I was gonna write sexy times but then... then I decided to embrace my selfish asshole side and sit back and hit post because guess what???????
> 
> This means CB will give us more of the sexy times INSTEAD and, let's be real friends and foes, CB writes some of the best smut ever, let alone in our little dumpster of fandom.


End file.
